Equality and Other Myths
by LessTalkingMoreWriting
Summary: Marinette is a member of the lowly Insecte class. A Bug. By day, she struggles with her underwhelming job as a maid and her one-sided infatuation with Adrien, her employers' son. By night, she is Ladybug, leader of the viral equality movement 'Miraculous', pledging to close the social divide that mars Paris. But that job comes with it's own problems. Is equality just a dream? AU
1. Chapter 1

**In a Paris marred by huge social divide, being born in the privileged Predateur class will give you every opportunity you could want, while being born a lowly Insecte will make achieving your dreams an uphill struggle. For the first time in centuries, this system is being challenged - by a viral new social justice movement known as 'Miraculous'. But a movement is only as strong as those who lead it, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng doesn't feel strong at all. By day, she struggles to cope with her underwhelming job as a maid and her one sided infatuation with her employer's son, Adrien Agreste. By night, she feels the pressure of being Ladybug, responsible for the hopes of the city. It doesn't help that her partner is a Predateur boy with a penchant for cat puns, or that they're up against a frighteningly well organised terrorist organisation. Well, no one said the road to equality would be an easy one. Marinette just hopes she can keep a hold on the many threads of her life until then, before everything starts to unravel...**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: In which life is generally disappointing**

 **Rule 8: No Insecte shall ever be chosen above a Predateur for a job.**

 _6 Months Ago_

Marinette stared down at the rejection letter in her hands, resisting the urge to shred it as tears crept into her eyes.

 _…Your work was of an outstanding quality, but, regrettably, there were no spaces for Insecte candidates on this year's program._

 _We wish you every success for the future._

 _Agreste Designs_

She'd known this would happen; had known that there was virtually no chance that she'd get the spot. This was an apprenticeship with one the cities largest garment designers, after all. But she hadn't realised how much hope she'd had. Stupid.

She kicked at the scuffed legs of her tiny wooden desk. So stupid.

It just wasn't fair. She knew she was good. Her clothes had never garnered a criticism. Talent like hers was the 'cream of the crop' that Agreste Designs was looking for. But those precious apprenticeships were being granted to Preds with half her skill. Just because they could boast of being born as Preds.

Taking a deep breath, she blinked and put the letter to one side, picking up the other one she'd received that day. Heavy paper, and an instantly recognisable crest - she thought she knew what it was.

 _Cher Mme. Dupain-Cheng_ , it read,

 _Congratulations! As a tenant under the Agreste estate, you are entitled to a position in the house after completing your mandatory education. As our records indicate that you have recently finished college, you are hereby offered the position of:_

Janitorial Assistant to the Main House

 _If you have secured further training for yourself, and do not require this job, please let us know as soon as possible. The position comes with accommodation and meals, for which a fee will be deducted from your salary. If you are taking this position, please report to the below-stairs admin in person on August 15th. Further information can be provided to you then._

 _Kind regards,_

 _Agreste Estate Management_

This was it. Marinette's hands shook. This was the job she hadn't wanted to have to consider. The fall-back option. The worst case scenario. Marinette looked at the stack of rejection letters placed neatly at the back of the desk. Well, it looked like she was doomed to be a.. what, again? A Janitorial Assistant to the Main House. Oh, God. A maid. And what was that the letter said again? Accommodation is provided. So she'd have to move away. Well, she didn't have to; the Agreste house was a ten minute walk away after all. But she looked around her tiny, sparsely furnished room, and knew she ought to. Her father was a senior manager in a large bakery, and while the salary was good enough to let her mother work part time as a librarian, it wouldn't do to put extra strain on her parents by insisting she stay at home.

The sudden reality of her future hit her like a ton of bricks, and, shoulders shaking, she cried.

* * *

 _Present Day_

Fumbling with her vacuum cleaner, unable to persuade the power lead to extend any further, Marinette trudged to the wall socket and moved the plug down to the next power source. She'd been cleaning this corridor three times a week for five months now, and she hadn't gotten any more proficient at cleaning it. Nor had it gotten any more interesting to clean.

Even after living in the Agreste mansion for almost half a year - albeit in the badly insulated outhouse - she still could barely believe the scope of it. Sure, even amongst Preds, the Agreste family was prolific, and sure, they weren't all this wealthy, but still. They had servants for their servants. They had so many hierarchies of servants that some of the upper jobs were done by Preds themselves. This corridor alone had double the floor space of Marinette's parents entire apartment, and it wasn't even a main corridor, just another of the large wings.

Marinette had struggled with it, initially. Struggled with the idea that, to all intents and purposes, her future -her life, her everything - was limited to cleaning this house. Though she'd made friends with the other Bugs in her cleaning team, and had quickly fitted into the large servant community, she'd still been depressed for a good month or so after starting. She'd been homesick, as well. Sure, she visited her parents almost every other day, but it wasn't the same. Her narrow bedroom in the Agreste outhouse wasn't home.

According to Alya, her best friend, life wasn't much better even if you hadn't been forced to take 'the patron's offer'. Alya, unlike Marinette, had been able to turn down the Bourgeois family's offer of a job as a dish washer after securing an apprenticeship with a local media company. She'd been overjoyed - until she'd found out exactly how much work she was expected to do.

'They pay me €2 per 500 words, Marinette,' she'd bemoaned during her first week. 'And they expect 8000 words a day. How is anyone supposed to produce quality journalism like that?'

Life, reflected Mari, really wasn't fair. And here were the Pred children the same age as them, either waltzing into apprenticeships that they'd never even had to try to get, or - the ultimate luxury - staying on at lycee for further education. Marinette tried to imaging sitting in a classroom now, at 17, learning about… books, or maths, or whatever she'd learned about. Imagine having few enough responsibilities to do that.

Fuelled by her frustration, she ploughed forward, pushing the vacuum cleaner so hard it made furrows in the carpet. She was meant to hoover in perfect, unbroken stripes, but who cared? It wasn't as if anyone ever noticed. She could be as disorganised as she liked. Smiling at the thought, she pulled on the vacuum, and spun a large semicircle with it, watching the velvet of the carpet fluff up in the wrong direction. She turned to complete the circle…. and collided solidly with a figure who had moved up behind her.

She would have fallen over in shock, had the person not held her up and lifted her onto her feet again. As it was, she dropped the vacuum, and it whirred uselessly and noisily on the floor. Dread in her stomach, she turned. Oh god.

'M… M….monsieur Ad…Ag..Agreste,' she eventually managed to stammer out, blushing deep red at her incompetence. She bowed, as was expected, thankful for the opportunity to drop her eyes to the floor. They couldn't stay there forever, unfortunately, and after a moment of silence she flicked them back up, trying to gauge the expression on Adrien Agreste's face.

He didn't look angry - though, to be fair, Marianette had never seen him look angry. He was admiring her handiwork with the vacuum, but met her eyes, and responded.

'Bonjour… Marion? No, Marinette. Sorry.'

'S..sorry? No, not at all, you have nothing to be sorry for; I'm the one who's sorry, I was just vacuum the sorting… Ah, I mean… The sort vacuum. Ah! Sorry, I meant…' Her tirade of nonsense didn't really finish, it just… faded out in shame. He looked at her with an uncertain smile (Oh lord, he though she was a lunatic), then carried on walking down the corridor. She watched him enter a room further down, then flopped in distress.

'Urgh!' Of course, she'd forgotten: she was a walking cliché, and a complete failure to the world of social activism. How nice to be reminded. In world where over half the population were treated as inferior beings; where her future was decided and limited by people who had no right to do so; what did she do? Fall hopelessly and one-sidedly in love with Adrien Agreste, their generation's embodiment of privileged birth.

It wasn't her fault, though, as she'd explained to Alya after confessing her infatuation. She'd walked into the Agreste house with every intention of finding Adrien, the model son, and heir to the estate, obnoxiously elitist. Her first glimpses of him, normally wrapped in the arms of the curse on humanity that was Chloe Bourgeois, did nothing to avail her of that perspective. And when she'd seen him running away following a prank that involved messing up a marble table she'd spent all morning polishing, she'd been sure he was just a spoiled Pred brat.

But then, things changed. 'You don't understand,' she'd moaned to Alya. 'He helped polish the table again. He actually apologised to me. And he gave me an umbrella to walk home with.' She'd waved the umbrella, now a cherished possession, as proof. 'I.. I think he's actually considerate. Everyone else says so. Do you know, he tries to learn the names of all the servants? And that he once gave one of the plumbing boys a gift when he found out it was his birthday? And.,.'

'Alright, enough already,' Alya said good-naturedly. 'I get it, Adrien is God's gift to the earth. I'm sure I'll hear a lot more about him.'

'Argh,' Marinette said, 'I doubt it. He's convinced I'm a total klutz. I can barely speak to him. I go bright red, completely, and I stutter.'

Alya burst out laughing. 'You, stutter? Marinette 'outspoken' Dupain-Cheng? Now that's something I'd like to see.'

'Shut up,' Marinette moaned, hitting her arm playfully.

'You know, Marinette,' Alya said, looking at her thoughtfully, 'This is not what I thought you'd be worried about at all. I thought for sure you'd be wanting to know about this new movement. You know - 'Miraculous.''

Marinette gulped. 'I thought it was called 'The Miraculous Truth'?'

'Yes, but that's so cumbersome. 'Miraculous' is much snappier. It fits into headline much better.'

'You're writing about it? It's only two weeks old!'

'Yeah, but this is big, Marinette. I can feel it. This isn't like all those other social justice movements. These guys have got more popularity in two weeks than the Akumas got in a year - and from Predateurs as well as Insectes. That's never happened before.'

Marinette cringed, trying to turn the conversation away before it became incriminating. 'Eh, well, we don't know how big it is yet. There might only be the two of them.'

It was the wrong thing to say. Alya's eyes lit up in anticipation. 'That doesn't matter. Those two are brilliant.'

'Ladybug and Chat Noir? Come on, Alya, do you think they can make that much of a difference?'

'A member of the Insecte class and a member of the Predateur class working together for 'peace and equality for all'? Yes, I think they can. And I'm surprised you're not jumping on their bandwagon. You're passionate about equality.'

Marinette thudded her head on the table. 'Not passionate enough to resist the allure of Adrien Agreste,' She pouted. 'What sort of equality fighter does that make me?'

'A young female one.' Alya shook her head sadly. 'Who is incredibly susceptible to good looks.'

Marinette laughed, and the conversation turned to more frivolous matters.

Now that she thought about it, her first two weeks at the Agreste household had been incredibly busy. What with moving away, finding a new group of friends, the intensity of her crush on Adrien, and… that other business, it was a miracle she hadn't had a breakdown.

She stood quietly, reminiscing, until a glance at one of the ornate mantle clocks reminded her that it was twenty minutes until her lunch break. The lunch break that she had an important meeting in. Cursing, she flew back into action, racing down the corridor with the vacuum flying beside her. She polished off the corridor in ten minutes. Not her best piece of hoovering, but she doubted anyone would notice. Tucking the cumbersome thing into the nearest cleaning supplies cupboard she saw, she retrieved her bag from the potted plant she'd hidden it in. Then, she made her way into the Agreste garden, looking for a concealed spot near the wall. She'd need the privacy for what she planned to do next.

Stripping off the black top, trousers, and shoes that made up her maid outfit, she dumped them in the bag, allowing the clothes she'd put in underneath them to be seen. A tight halterneck top in a spandex material, red with black polka-dots, and waist high matching leggings, designed so that the spots matched up. From the bag, she pulled a black leather jacket, again as tight as possible while still allowing mobility, and black gloves. Practical black knee boots with red soles that gave excellent grip. The jacket had various straps inside it, allowing her to place a set of grapplers and some multipurpose tools inside. They weighed her down, but not impossibly.

Clothes sorted, she then changed her hair, pulling it from the aggressively tight bun she normally wore at work to two pigtails that let her long bangs sweep across her forehead. She exchanged her plain black earrings for a bright red pair. Finally, a swipe of red paint across the eyes - heavy stage makeup - changed her face just enough to make it hard to recognise her. She was ready. Hiding her bag under a nearby hollow stump, she pulled out the grapplers and quickly scaled the wall at the edge of the Agreste estate.

Five minutes later and she was dashing across one of the flat rooftops in one of the more middle class areas of Paris. She was late.

Glancing at her phone, the tiny one she used as Ladybug, she saw a message.

 **0814 687345: Where are mew? :3**

She rolled her eyes. There wasn't much point in replying, since, with one last bound, she landed on the roof that was their prearranged meeting spot. He was waiting.

'It's about time, my lady,' her partner said, smirking. 'I was all ready to have a cat-nap.'

'Very cute, Chaton, but we've got bigger things to talk about. Unless, of course, you've got better things to be doing? Laser pointers to chase?'

'So sar-cat-stic today; has something happened?'

Marinette groaned, and flopped onto the raised chimney on the roof. 'Of course something's happened. Didn't you see the news? Another appeal to overturn an amendment to rule 8 was lost. It's completely wrecked the Budel case. The poor man's lost his job and is sentenced to six months in prison. It's just not fair.'

'No,' her partner said, in a serious tone, 'It isn't. It's not right.' After a moment or two he scooted closer to her, invading her personal space, and picked up her hand, leaning in. 'But is there anything else?' He asked with a smirk, voice low and smarmy. 'Anything in your… purr-sonal life?'

She smiled and took her hand back, using her other one to cheerfully push his face away. 'Wouldn't you like to know? But come on! We have a campaign to organise. Do you have those plans?' He looked mock offended for a moment, then turned back to business.

'But of course. Your wish is my command, my lady.'

Marinette sighed. It had been over five months since the enigma known as Chat Noir had come in to her life and claimed a spot as Ladybug's partner, and she still couldn't make head or tail of him.

Every time she saw him, she was reminded again of how bizarre their situation was. A Predateur playboy with an interest in activism, and a random Insecte girl with nothing more to her name than a passion for equality, thrown together to try and make a small dent in the social system they lived in. All while knowing nothing more about each other than the fact they shared the same goal - a fact she'd doubted more often than not when they'd first started. He stood before her, all in black, his leather jacket thrown over a skintight thermal jumper marked with paw-prints and skinny jeans, boots and gloves completing the look. Unlike her, her wore an actual mask over his eyes - eyes which were so vibrantly green that she suspected contact lenses. She'd made his outfit for him. When they'd first met he'd been in nothing more concealing than a hoodie and a cornerstore mask. Once they'd decided on their theme and approach, she'd made up outfits that made them look more like a pair. Even now, she was pleased with them.

If only the rest of him was as easy to pin down as his clothes.

When she'd been told that someone else had been recruited along with her - that she was going to have a partner, and a Pred one at that - this guy was not what she'd imagined. For starters, she thought that he'd be older. Experienced. It took most Predateur's until middle age to realise that the system they lived in didn't really benefit the economy or culture as a whole; or to develop the modicum of empathy required to perceive it's unfairness. And regardless of age, she expected someone with knowledge. Someone who lived and breathed activism. Why else would you risk your life for it?

When she'd run into Chat Noir, then, on her first outing as Ladybug, she'd been boggled. Frivolous, completely apathetic, and altogether too reliant on puns, she'd quickly decided that the only reason this flirt was in the game at all - considering his every action spoke of privilege - was for fun. And she'd resented it. It was hard to work effectively as a team when she was constantly doubting her partners commitment to the cause.

After a while, her anxiety had started to fade. It was nothing conscious on her part; just the gradual realisation that he would always be around and eager to handle a situation. She thought he might have quit of his own accord once he realised vigilante activism wasn't all fun and games, but the scratches and scrapes and bruising he gradually accumulated just made him run in all the faster next time. Before she knew it, Ladybug found she enjoyed his company. Their banter was refreshing, and once she'd gotten used to the puns they weren't all that bad. And, while she was forced to be the more leader-like of the two of them (despite feeling vastly out of her depth), he was loyal to her plans to a fault. She quickly and almost subconsciously began to trust him to have her back.

His voice broke into her thoughts. 'Not that I mind you staring, but I thought it was the plans you wanted to see.'

She ignored his smirk and took the crumpled paper he offered. 'This is the complete Palace Hotel floor plan? Are you sure? How did you get it?'

He looked suitably unimpressed by her interrogation. 'Yes, it's complete. I got it by a very complex spy method.'

'Really?'

'Mm, I walked in without my disguise on and pretended I was interested in a room. They gave me a full tour.' He grinned at her.

'Well, forgive me. You forget that they don't even let Bugs in there unless they work. We can't all be as privileged as you, chaton.'

'The honour of your company is all the privilege I need, my lady.'

She raised her eyes on despair and turned back to the plans. 'Now, where will they be?'

'Are you sure that an Akuma will attack?' Chat Noir asked.

Ladybug nodded. 'They have to. They've made such a big deal over the court case that they can't just back down now that the Bug side lost. Think about it.' She lifted up her hand, striking the points off on her finger as she spoke them. 'Judge Carade is well known as one of the most biased justices in Paris, and he's just ruled against a member of the Insecte class in a very public case. This case marks the end of 40 years on the bench, and he's having a celebratory dinner - tomorrow - in the palace hotel, with old friends, including the Mayor. When are the Akumas going to get a better time to strike? It's a gathering of some of the most elite Preds in the city, in one of the cities most elitist locations. An attack there would be perfect for them.'

Chat Noir nodded. 'So you think that Papillon will have been planning this strike for a while?'

'Almost certainly as long as he's known about the dinner. Which depends on who he is, but if he's close to anyone close to Carade, potentially a couple of months.'

'Great. How did we miss it until the night before?'

'Ah, calm down, kitty. It's not like either of us were invited, after all.'

Her partner shifted uncomfortably.

'Anyway,' she continued, 'the issue isn't what we haven't done, it's what we're going to do.'

'Carade will know of the threat. He'll have every security in place.'

'Yes, but as we've seen in the past, Papillon's capable of having his Akumas run rings around normal security measures.'

'Well, there's only one place that the celebration could be happening, and that's the main dining room. There are too many people attending for it to be anywhere else.'

'That's useful to know. What are the entrance ways into the room?'

He pointed on the map. 'It's on the fourth floor. There's a large door into the corridor, a side door to the kitchen, another to an elevator and stairs, large French doors onto a balcony, and a dumbwaiter in the kitchen.'

'Great.' Ladybug hrumphed. 'That won't be difficult to secure at all.'

'Maybe,but there will be lots of bodyguards around. And they'll sweep the whole place for bombs beforehand.'

'Hmmm.' She sat still for a minute, fingers tapping. 'Chat Noir, I've got an idea.'

* * *

 **Why is it that my first writing foray in a new fandom has to be an epic scale AU requiring precise plotting, careful characterisation and lots and lots of words? I was going to to continue this chapter, but then realised that if I did that I'd have a book on my hands before I knew it. So I've settled for this tentative chapter to establish the context, and we'll see how it goes. This AU will take a slightly more serious look at the exploits of our two favourite superheroes - though don't worry, I intend to prioritise their relationship. This story will definitely feature all four sides of the love square at some point. Anyway, do let me know what you think - is this an idea that ought to have stayed in my head? Is anything not clear about it? Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rule 4: No Insecte shall marry a Predateur without the full consent of the Predateur's relevant family members.**

* * *

Chapter 2: In which Adrien is bored

The past couple of days had been unusually stressful for Adrien Agreste. Considering that his schedule was normally a balancing act between modelling, school, extra activities, and the odd moment of freedom, that was saying a lot. And all the anxiety was building up to one thing: convincing his father that he was too unwell to attend Carade's celebratory dinner that night.

Looking at the gilt edged invitation that had been pinned on his noticeboard for at least four months, he squirmed a little. His current situation was all his own fault. If he'd just been a bit more _socially aware_ , he and Ladybug could've made a plan of action weeks earlier. As it was, they were stuck with a hastily cobbled together plan that Ladybug had had to pull virtually from thin air - all because, once again, he hadn't managed to make the connection between his civilian life and his activist one.

 _Consequences, Agreste,_ he thought to himself, brushing his teeth aggressively. Y _our actions have consequences._ This wasn't the first time he'd failed to spot a potential hotspot for activism lurking somewhere in his social calendar. The amount of people and events that the Akumas targeted who were also somehow connected to him was uncanny. _But then again,_ he reminded himself, _you're the Agreste heir. You'll probably be targeted yourself at some point._

Ladybug never blamed him for his inability to give her advance warning of events - but she didn't know how well connected he was to Pred elites. And of all the many failures that he regularly chalked up to himself, not helping Ladybug out as much as he felt he ought to was the one that burned most.

Sighing, he finished washing his face, fixed his hair, and laid back down on his bed. It was 8:13. Nathalie would come and see where he was when he didn't show up at 8:15. He'd tell her he was feeling too unwell to move. She'd call his father, and it would be about 10 minutes before it was decided he'd better stay in bed. That would be 8:25. Then, he'd be left alone until a doctor was called in, probably late morning. After that, he'd be alone again, and stuck in bed until the evening. It was going to be a long day.

Still, he'd already hindered the cause of Miraculous by not realising the Carade party would be targeted. The least he could do now would be to make sure that Chat Noir was available to fulfil his role in Ladybug's plan.

Pulling his phone out, he sent a brief message to his best friend Nino.

 **Adrien: Unwell today. Have to call off lunch. Let me know about how the new track goes down.**

To his credit, his friend responded almost instantly.

 **Nino: Bummer. Having to miss out on my company :(**

 **Adrien: I don't know how I'll make it :)**

 **Nino: Good luck with that haha**

 **Nino: Got to go now - meeting a reporter to talk about my beats B)**

 **Adrien: See you later**

He shoved his phone under the covers as Nathalie walked in.

'Adrien? What's wrong? Why aren't you ready!'

'Urgh,' Adrien responded eloquently, putting on his best pained face. 'Nathalie… Please…. I feel awful…'

'Oh dear, your father will be upset to hear that. What sort of awful?'

'My head… and my stomach… please, I can't stand up.'

'Right. Well, wait right there. I'll call your father and let him know. You poor thing.'

She bustled out the room.

Eight minutes and one stilted conversation with Gabriel Agreste later, and Adrien's schedule had been cleared for the day.

'I'll have a doctor look in on you at some point,' Nathalie said as she walked out the room. 'Do you think you can eat? Shall I have breakfast sent up to you?'

Adrien nodded. He had every dedication to the cause, but not to the extent of forgoing food.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Adrien sat up, feeling a small amount of triumph along with a twinge of shame. He was 17, for goodness sake, and he was acting like a 12 year old pulling a sickie. There were maids in his house who were the same age as him. Treated like adults, with jobs and responsibilities. Why did he still get to act as if he were a kid?

These sort of thoughts had always crossed his mind, but it wasn't until the sequence of events that lead up to him becoming Char Noir that he'd really listened to them. Now, he found the vast difference in lifestyles between him and some of his peers incredibly jarring and more than a little embarrassing. Whenever one of the maids bowed to him, for example. He wanted to grab them, tell them not to, say that this - their lives, the fact that they hoovered his hallway while he polished his calculus skills - this wasn't fair, and that neither he nor they deserved it.

He couldn't say that, of course, and in any case they probably knew it already, and resented him for it. Before his venturing into social activism, he'd just done his best to narrow the gap between them by learning their names and helping them out if he could. Since becoming Chat Noir he felt a little better passing them in the corridors, knowing that he was working to destroy the system that hampered them as much as Gabriel hampered him.

Trying to explain his reasoning to Ladybug had been a fun experiment.

'So you're saying,' she'd said slowly, the second time they'd met, 'that you became Chat Noir - that you got involved with literally _life-risking_ stuff - because you felt bad about the advantage you had over us?' Her blue eyes pierced suspiciously through his composure.

'Um, yes? I mean, no, I joined after I learned the truth, but, um, I guess that's why I was recruited?' He grinned nervously and rubbed the nape of her neck.

She stared, wide-eyed. Despite the sit

* * *

uation, he couldn't not enjoy matching her stare with his own, watching thoughts flick around those sky blue orbs.

'Sorry, chaton, but I don't buy it.'

'Hey? Why not?'

'That would just make you too… nice. I mean, literally starting a social movement out of… embarrassment.' She laughed. 'Who does that? I don't know if I think you would.'

'What? I'm nice. I'm purr-fectly nice. That's exactly the sort of thing I would do.'

She sighed, one eyebrow raised. 'So the puns are a permanent thing, then?'

'Pardon?'

'I thought they might have just been… a first time quirk. A way to impress.'

He grinned. 'Oh, they are there to im-purr-ess. I can cat-egorically say, my lady, that these puns are sticking around - at least until you fall fur me.'

'Oh right, and _puns_ are supposed to help that happen?'

 _No, but you're hopelessly incredible and the puns come naturally so I'll take whatever communication I can._

'You can't resist them fur-ever, my lady.'

She laughed. 'Wanna bet?'

He sighed in bed. He had to admit, she'd done a pretty good job of resisting them so far. Them, and whatever else he pulled out of the bag as Chat Noir in an attempt to get her to look at him twice. He rolled over melancholically. Well, she'd take more notice of him if he did a semi-decent job as her partner.

To be honest, he was pretty happy with the way their relationship had progressed over the last six months, even if it hadn't been happening as quickly as he'd've liked. To begin with, Ladybug patently hadn't trusted him - not that he could blame her - and had openly questioned his motives on more than one occasion. He'd normally responded frivolously, trying to lighten things up. Now, he knew that that'd been exactly the wrong thing to do. Ladybug's involvement in this issue was real. He'd been mildly bothered by it, but she, she was willing to give her everything for it. _Just one more thing to love about her._

Now, he prided himself on the easy conversation they had together, and the way she'd relaxed around him - the little gestures, like patting his head, or flicking the little bell at the top of his jacket zipper. She seemed to have finally accepted his resolution.

The day crept by so slowly Adrien could barely cope with it. He played a few video games until the doctor arrived, where he bombarded the poor man with utterly conflicting symptoms until he gave up and prescribed paracetamol and rest. After that he tried to do the reading for the lessons he'd missed, and for his Chinese. At some point, he heard the shrieking tones of Chloe Bourgeois demanding to see him, and winced in sy

* * *

mpathy for whoever was having to deal with her. At some point, there was a huge crash, but after a while everything went silent again. Watching the seconds move on the clock was painful, and he was beginning to feel nervous about the evening. The tension wound like a spring in his stomach until he could take it no longer, and attacked the punching bag in the corner of his room until he collapsed in a sweat. Showering took up a little more time. Checking his phone afterwards, he saw that Nino had texted him.

 **Nino: DUDE**

 **Adrien: What's up? How'd your song go down?**

 **Nino: The reporter girl, dude.**

 **Adrien: What?**

 **Nino: The reporter. From the Echo. Doing a blog post on my song.**

 **Adrien: What about her?**

 **Nino: Only that she's fucking hot**

 **Adrien: Nice. Ask her out**

 **Nino: Been there, done that**

 **Adrien: WHAT**

 **Nino: Guess who's got a date**

 **Adrien: Seriously?**

 **Nino: Why? You didn't think I could pull?**

 **Adrien: I seem to recall your last crush involved me hiding behind a tree literally DICTATING to you**

 **Adrien: Forgive me if I'm slightly disbelieving**

 **Nino: I don't know, man. We just… clicked**

 **Adrien: Well I'm happy for you**

 **Nino: Thanks mate**

 **Nino: You feeling any better?**

 **Adrien: Nah. Evening in bed for me.**

 **Nino: Hope you feel better soon**

 **Adrien: Don't worry, I'll be bothering you at lunch again before you know it**

 **Nino: Haha spare me**

Adrien grinned at his phone disbelievingly. Nino had had absolutely zero long term success with any of his crushes up until now, so he didn't like to get his hopes up for his friend. But still, he was pretty impressed.

If only it were that easy for him.

He started getting ready, pulling on the clothes that Ladybug had made for him. He loved them. A little bit of her in every stitch. The jacket was his favourite part. One of their earliest long conversations had been discussing their image - what they wanted to convey - and they'd brainstormed together. They hadn't really known each other then.

'Not elitist or arrogant,' she'd said, notebook in hand as they sat in a small office in an abandoned warehouse. 'But distinctive,' he'd argued. 'People need to recognise us. We're not trying to be ninjas.'

She looked at him. 'Aren't you? Even with all that baton twirling?'

'If I were a real ninja I would have nunchucks,' he responded promptly. 'Or shruiken.'

'…okay. Well, we need to come across as equals. That's what this is all about.'

'And partners. They need to know how much we like each other.' He smirked at her.

'Maybe something matching? Oh, and they need to know you're a Pred and I'm a Bug.'

'Judging by the news coverage of our first little jaunt together, my lady, I think everyone knows that by now.'

'Yes, but they need to see it. Your Kwami told you, didn't they? This isn't about giving people new information. What we're doing is giving them a hope, and example. Proof that Preds and Bugs can be great together.'

'My Kwami wasn't that poetic about it, but yeah, I got the gist.'

'There are plenty of experts out there who can explain why the system we live in doesn't work. Our job is to get people's emotions, to show them there's a better alternative. Our outfits need to say: here are all our differences, and here we are together anyway.'

'Don't our names do that? Ladybug and Chat Noir; we aren't being exactly subtle about it.'

'Eh, we could be less subtle. You could have been 'Predator' and I could have been 'Insect'.'

'Hmm, I must say I'm glad you opted for Ladybug.'

'Maybe we could base our outfits on our names.'

'Oh, I am _not_ wearing a tail. Can you imagine? It would be claw-ful.'

'Not as 'clawful' as that pun was,' Ladybug muttered. 'Still, no tail. Right, I've got some ideas now. Give me a day or so to rustle something up.'

'Ok. Wait, what?'

'I said, I'll whip up some outfits.'

'You can do that?'

Ladybug smiled. 'Using grappling hooks isn't my only talent, Chaton. I'll see you back here, same time tomorrow?'

Adrien remembered how the childish part of him - the part of him that still thought of his vigilante activism as a chance to live repressed superhero dreams - had spent the whole of the next in a state of excitement. He was going to get a _costume._ True, Ladybug couldn't be much older than him, and he didn't know what her sewing skills were like - she couldn't be as good at _everything_ as she was at activism - but still, it was exciting.

Ladybug had arrived before him that evening, and he'd quickly realised that yes, she was good at everything. Rather than the makeshift red top and black jeans she'd been wearing beforehand, she was now clad in an amazingly flattering polka dot halterneck/legging combo that flashed her toned midriff in a delightfully distracting way. A leather jacket was slung over her arm as she chucked a top and trousers at him.

'Tell me what you think.'

As a model, Adrien was pretty used to clothes, and these were up there in terms of both quality of design and execution. Showing off the outfit to her, he'd said so - well, not the model bit - and she'd smiled a little sadly. 'Here,' she said. 'Try this on.' It was a leather jacket. Holding it up, he admired the details - the pawprint on the pocket, the tiny gold bell at the top of the zip. Then he turned it around, and grinned. Emblazoned in appliqué on the back were large letters spelling NOIR, above a large green paw-print. Eagerly, he put it on, enjoying the good fit. 'This is amazing, Ladybug! I love it.'

She'd put her own jacket on. 'It matches mine,' she said, and turned around. Sure enough, on the back of her more petite version was the same lettering, this time spelling 'LADY', above a red circle with five black spots in it.

'So cool,' Adrien whispered. He hardly knew if he was talking about the outfits or her.

'Yours has a hood,' Ladybug continued, prompting him to reach up and pull it over. 'It has ears on it. And there are gloves in the pockets.'

'Ladybug, this is incredible. Awesome. How did you do this? Do you work in fashion?' He regretted asking after her face grew somber and lost the blush that had risen to her cheeks when he'd complimented her. 'No.' She slumped. 'I applied, but it was no go. There were… There weren't any places for Bugs that year.'

Chat felt a pang of anger at the world they lived in - a feeling he was getting used to by now. Nothing should be making someone as special as Ladybug look that upset. Especially not some stupidly biased rules.

'Well,' he said, 'we're going to change that. You've got far too much talent to be wasted doing… What do you do?'

She quirks an eyebrow at him. 'Nice try, chaton, but I'm not letting you know that just yet. The less we know about each other's civilian lives the better, right?'

'Oh, but you've already given me a clue, my lady.' He gestured to his clothes.

Ladybug laughed. 'Oh, yeah. I forgot. Silly me, I've given myself away, haven't?. Now all you've got to do is scour Paris for a girl who doesn't work in fashion. You'll track me down before the week's out. '

Would that he could have, Adrien thought. Six months on and he was still no closer to knowing Ladybug's identity. Though she was right, it wasn't like they could do anything if he did. Being a part of Miraculous let them break the rules, let them dance around each other without worrying about the consequences. As soon as the masks came off, societal pressure, rigorous laws, and Gabriel Agreste came crashing down on their relationship like a ton of bricks.

Pulling his second glove on with a snap, he grabbed his baton from it's hiding place in a fake plant pot and climbed onto his window ledge. He'd have to get going if he wanted to sneak out and meet Ladybug on time, so, carefully, he climbed down the wall of his house, using his baton to wedge into the bricks. Once he was at the bottom, he avoided the many security cameras and wove his way through the garden to a place where age had eroded the wall into a series of convenient handholds. Scaling it, he dropped down the other side. On the opposite side of the street, a covered black motorcycle waited. He grinned. Ladybug could be content grappling her way across Paris's rooftops. He needed something with a little more speed.

As always, he stayed off the main roads, preferring the almost entirely deserted backstreets. He loved his jacket, but being stuck in a busy traffic jam in an outfit that literally had his identity emblazoned on the back was, he had discovered, not a fun situation. Ladybug had had no sympathy; she suggested he stick to the roofs, like she did. Which he could do, but… scaling buildings was hard. And even taking a slightly longer route on the bike, he still arrived at their prearranged spot opposite the Palace Hotel five minutes before she did.

'Hey,' she said when she arrived, dropping down from the roof to land behind him.

'Late again, my lady,' he responded playfully. 'Careful, or I'll become the punctual one of our pair. And wouldn't that be a cat-astrophe.'

She swatted him, smiling, but as he looked at her, he noticed how tired she seemed.

'Is everything alright, Ladybug?'

She blinked. 'Oh, oui. I'm fine. It's just… been a really long day.'

'Is this your nightmare of a job again?'

'It never gets any better. There's this one girl… ugh… Anyway, she got in the way of things, today, and I almost didn't finish up in time. Almost.'

Chat Noir patted her on the shoulder, wishing he could at least give her a hug. But even that was more intimacy than their relationship currently had.

…It was funny, really. He remembered the day he'd finally convinced Ladybug of his resolve; that he was in this fight to stay.

'There's someone I'm fighting for,' he'd said, one starry night about three months ago. 'Something… a future I'm fighting for. And… even if it never comes about, I don't want it to lose out on the chance to have it just because of this ridiculous system we live under. I can't… Won't let that happen.' Something in his voice must have moved her, because he hadn't seen Ladybug look at him like that before or since.

'…Ok,' she said eventually, surprised acceptance in her tone. 'Alright. That's… that sounds like something to fight for.'

She smiled at him, and he'd had to resist the urge to explain that the future he was fighting for was them, together, with her wowing the world with her fashion designs and him not being in the public eye much anymore, and getting to know her family and friends as himself and not Chat. Him getting to know the girl with black hair and blue eyes who cared enough about the world to get out some face paint and fight the system. And if none of that could come to pass, he wanted it to be because of her own decisions, or because of his. Certainly not because society dictated that they couldn't be together.

Coming back to reality, and to Ladybug's tired eyes gazing into his own, he mentally ran through his part of the plan again. 'Well, my lady, shall we get going?'

'Yes. Come on, chaton. Let's go and save M. Carade.'

She dashed toward the hotel, and, without hesitation, he followed.

 **Have another chapter, it looks like this idea is here to stay. Thanks for the reviews I've gotten! They're absolutely motivating my continuation with this. Lot's of flashback LadyNoir here (when you literally write the ship name on the outfits) and some one sided Ladrien I guess? Like I said, all four sides will be featured at some point, along with plenty of DjWifi. I hope you liked the chapter - as always, review and let me know what you think!**


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